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Loving someone isn't an action, or a state of mind, it's something that you hold within yourself. Sometimes it's a dormant emotion that's left unacknowledged. It could happen in tandem with conscious desire or not. Alexis had quite the opposite realization.
His parents could love him, or something akin. He does love them, but that pales to being in love; that consumes you.
Michael must not have time for love, hopefully not. There's nights where he's nowhere to be found, phone left on his nightstand. Once, he was gone until dawn. Alexis would've had suspicions if not for the football that's taken with its handler.
If Michael were at some pub, he'd return before midnight. Otherwise, he supposedly wanders streets and parks. Alexis avoids asking too many questions as not to ruin their usual encounter upon Micheal's return.
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He'll open his unlocked room to find Alexis at the window, watching crows on a wire. He'd be leaned over, unmoving. Michael wouldn't bother with charades as he'd change from a track set. Only after placing his ball on the designated shelf within his closet, would he grab a half finished novel and sit on his duvet by Alexis.
Alexis had a tedious hair routine that Michael couldn't care less about. Curls whirl around his fingertips, as if clinging to him. One after the other, they'd fall back into place, eventually losing their spirals and gaining a frizzy texture. Alexis didn't seem to mind, he never complained. The next day there would be no sign of tampering. At least for now he could keep combining, scratching, pulling, until he was sure Alexis would squirm away.
He never did
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He never would.
To love someone is to accept every part of them. They shouldn't have to perform for you, right? Even if it isn't always pretty, that's what makes it beautiful. Asking someone to change is wrong, yes, and being with them through the ugly is what makes it all real.
And in the end it's worth it, always. As long as Michael will smile at him, praise him, hold his hand, anything, there isn't a reason to worry over silly emotions. Unless, there's a ticking clock that Alexis isn't aware of. Tireless hands getting closer to their ultimate separation. Has Michael ever wondered that?
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It's typical for Alexis to be watching old films whenever practice is postponed; with rain providing a melody for dark afternoons, he claims there's a production that calls for romance. It's strange to Michael as sun and rainbows after a storm are typically attributed to the boisterous aesthetic. It's not like he would know. There's only so much energy he can subsidize away from football.
Maybe the new thing is for kids to run into the rain and get sick together. A girl in running makeup and a boy with soggy boots. According to Alexis, that would've been the best thing to watch if his dvd player wasn't dead. It sounds like junk to Michael. What's the appeal of a wet hand sliding in his own? Alexis didn't argue when the thought was prompted.
Once they make it to a nearby shop, a girl stops them soon as their umbrellas are closed. Michael is quick to reject her as Alecis rounds a corner. Michael trails into the pastry section to find Alexis idly staring at a fresh sachertorte cake for some reason. When spooked, the boy asks what Michael had said. Truth exposed, Alexis proceeds with something odd before clamming up.
“What the hell?”
“Oh god, I'm sorry, just forget I said anything!”
“No, I just don't get what you're trying to ask!”
“I don't want to push or anything!” Alexis had a whiny pitch in tone, likely from embarrassment. “It's just you reject a lot of girls, but I should've kept it to myself.”
Gears turned, just missing each other until- “Are you asking if I'm gay?”
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Love is something from within, so maybe Michael does love him? Out of everything he seems to enjoy, Alexis must make the cut. If not, maybe one day.
It's foreign to Alexis what makes someone able to feel love or to whom. It's extraordinary but often unfitting. It's magic how one loses rights to their own mind once it's ingrained. In his case, the siren in his amygdala is no more, as his adoration has traveled into his core.
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“Where do you wanna go when they kick us from the dorms?”
God the puppy probably wants to reserve the spot closest to whatever he answers.
“Dunno, but you're coming.”
“Oh, well yea I'll be within biking distance of the field, maybe by the bakery-”
“WIth me.”
“Huh?”
“You'll be coming with m-”
“You already said that?"
“Are you rejecting the invitation?”
“To what?”
“Goddam it Alexis, live with me!”
“Ohh!”
His forehead must be red from the force of his palm. Well, not as red as Alexis’ entire face.
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If there is a clock for the universe, he'll use all his might feasibly possible in attempt to rip off the hands before it takes away his love because Michael loves him.